Adam Lambert gets all shirtless and sexy, while simultaneously a little deep, in his new video and song, ‘Welcome to the Show.’ I can dig it, and would expect nothing less from this two-time Hunk of the Day.
Adam Lambert gets all shirtless and sexy, while simultaneously a little deep, in his new video and song, ‘Welcome to the Show.’ I can dig it, and would expect nothing less from this two-time Hunk of the Day.
This has already been a Madonna Timeline, but I feel like there’s more to that memory, more to that time in my life, than I was able to convey that first time around. Summer days often come with a tinge of melancholy, a sense of longing that creeps in among the sunny days, leaving a mark like a water stain having dried too soon in the heat.
That summer of ’92 was a haze of confusing emotions as I struggled with unfurling my wings and clipping them at the same time. Such conflicting thoughts left me outwardly stoic and a little paralyzed. And yet I went so far – Boston, New York, Finland, Providence – and back to Amsterdam in the end, where I spent the final warm weeks of the waning summer before my last year of high school.
Madonna This Used to be My Playground [Long Version]
WELL THE YEARS THEY FLEW
AND WE NEVER KNEW,
WE WERE FOOLISH THEN
WE WERE NEVER TIRED
AND THAT LITTLE FIRE
IS STILL ALIVE IN ME…
IT WILL NEVER GO AWAY,
CAN’T SAY GOODBYE TO YESTERDAY…
As the hollyhocks reached the sky, and I plucked Japanese beetles off their leaves, I remembered where I had just been. A stone staircase leading down to a statue of bears, a wedding receiving line covered with a hand-held arch of birch boughs, a dinner backed by the first Cowboy Junkies album I ever heard, and a long stretch of dirty road bordered by the lofty ears of corn.
It’s almost corn season again.
This post was for me. So I can remember. Maybe one day each of those tales will be told, but not yet.
Today feels more like a Monday to those of us who haven’t worked in four days, so let’s do that sad Monday ritual of the recap now, before another week gets away from us. I don’t mind so much in the winter, but in the summer, I won’t throw away a weekend for anything. On with the recap that represents all things patriotic, as based on the featured photo’s onesie.
The Olympians occupied most of the slots for Hunk of the Day, thanks to Steele Johnson, John Orozco, Jake Dalton, Sam Mikulak & Chris Brooks.
A summer porny read.
Speaking of nudity, this pool tease.
A pot salad.
This male model has his sight set on a Hunk of the Day post.
Who is ready for their close-up?
The innocents, poolside.
And America.
A pair of patriotic hunks: John Cena and Conor Dwyer.
A simple salad of mixed greens (and a couple of reds), fresh pears, toasted walnuts (yes, the toasting is important) and goat cheese. One cannot go wrong with fresh, seasonal items, especially when combined in such easy fashion. A light topping of raspberry vinaigrette finishes things off nicely. A very happy summer lunch treat, ideally enjoyed in a shaded nook by the pool.
It breaks my heart that this beautiful symbol is being hijacked by racists, bigots, homophobes, and not-so-veiled white supremacists.
There, I said it.
This country was founded on the notion of freedom for EVERYONE.
If you can’t understand that, or if you don’t want it to be so, GET OUT.
As for the rest of you fellow Americans, Happy Independence Day.
As if being named Hunk of the Day here wasn’t enough, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau just marched in the Toronto Gay Pride Parade, and even took a water gun blast with bonhomie and good humor – all the while looking hotter than usual. It’s never too late to move to Canada…
The might of the ocean.
The dark depths we can barely fathom.
Sometimes just peering in is a frightening thing.
What leviathans might surface for air?
More terrifying than that is the concept of all that water and darkness and cold.
When faced with something so vast, we can’t help but feel helpless.
There’s a kind of awfulness in that.
No matter how much time passes,
no matter what takes place in the interim,
there are some things we can never assign to oblivion,
memories we can never rub away. – Haruki Murakami
“All beings have lived and died and been reborn countless times. Over and over again they have experienced the indescribable Clear Light. But because they are obscured by the darkness of ignorance, they wander endlessly in a limitless samsara.”~ Padmasambhava
Samsara is essentially not any fixed place or realm – for it is any state of mind filled with attachment, aversion and delusion. As the enlightened have no attachment, aversion and delusion, they are forever free of the samsaric, and are never really ‘in’ Samsara, even as they ‘enter’ Samsara to aid beings truly ‘in’ Samsara to be free of attachment, aversion and delusion. It is thus an error to imagine that the enlightened suffer in Samsara when they remain or return to Samsara to help relieve suffering – for, once again, Samsara is not a place. Being enlightened is also to be free of all suffering – wherever one is. ~ Shian
Most people feel cozy enough in samsara. They do not really have the genuine aspiration to go beyond samsara; they just want samsara to be a little bit better. The underlying motivation to go beyond samsara is very rare… There are many people who learn to meditate and so forth, but with the underlying motive that they hope to make themselves feel better… We are always looking to make ourselves comfortable in the prison house. We might think that if we get the cell wall painted a pretty shade of pale green, and put in a few pictures, it won’t be a prison anymore.” ~ Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo
Or, Samsara: it’s more than just a perfume.
“I would advise you to be happy rather than well-dressed.
It’s better to be happy.” ~ Iris Apfel
It’s a strange position for me to support, yet somehow it’s always been that way. No one I ever tried to impress with my sartorial choices was ever really won over. They looked and gawked and reluctantly gave up a few compliments, but dressing well doesn’t win lasting or real affection. Often, it doesn’t even get you in the door.
At this critical junction of The Delusional Grandeur Tour: Last Stand of a Rock Star, we look into what constitutes true grandeur, and what happens when the delusions are removed.
We don’t usually realize how important and vital our delusions are, how deeply embedded and impossibly ingrained they become after years of practice and abuse. They are not necessarily bad things, our delusions, so long as we understand them to be no more than what they are. To attribute any authentic power or substance to them – therein lies the danger.
If we are wise, we reconcile them to the fanciful phantoms they mostly are, an offset of our illusions, a playground of confusion, mere wisps of aspiration.
If we can get our heads around that concept, then let them be grand. Let them be greater than grand. Let our delusions be divine…
This summer Madonna’s ‘True Blue’ album turned 30 years old. Released at one of the many peaks of her fame, this was a pivotal album in her career. Having deftly avoided the sophomore curse with her ‘Like A Virgin‘ album, for many people ‘True Blue’ was like her second album. Far more difficult than a comeback is maintaining the level of success that an album such as ‘Like A Virgin’ sets up, yet Madonna miraculously succeeded.
The lead single ‘Live to Tell’ smartly steps miles away from the bubblegum pop of classics like ‘Dress You Up‘ and ‘Material Girl’ and it remains one of her greatest ballads. It set a somber tone, but more serious work was on her mind, as evidenced by album-opener ‘Papa Don’t Preach.’ Defiant, catchy, dramatic and urgent, it was a new Madonna. With her bright blonde pixie cut and toned body, it was one of her most remarkable transformations, and became the benchmark for reinvention.
White-hot pop art was found in another #1 single, ‘Open Your Heart‘ and its darkly gorgeous video. While its exploration of sexuality was clinically-cool, Madonna strutted her stuff in a passionate plea for connection. That kind of passion was in full-effect in a palate of blues found in the title track. ‘True Blue‘ echoed the girl group ear-candy of the 50’s and 60’s, as well as the saccharine belief in true love that was a hallmark of the first blush of marriage.
Lasting longer than the title track and her first marriage (and second, for that matter) ‘La Isla Bonita‘ appears to be one of Madonna’s favorite songs, given her penchant for performing it every chance she gets. In its original incarnation, it is warm and sensuous, the personification of The Beautiful Island, and the religious imagery of the video is an unheralded harbinger of her ‘Like A Prayer‘ days.
Deeper cuts may not fare as well thirty years later, but they carry the hope and inspiration of Madonna’s career and life at the time. ‘Love Makes the World Go Round‘ and ‘Where’s the Party‘ were more than just filler – they provided the backdrop to a decade in which some of us grew up. It’s hard to imagine that there was ever a time when she was all that innocent, but ‘True Blue’ may have been Madonna’s last album of unadulterated, wistful hope.
This precious triumvirate, hailing from the Houses of Tom Ford, Hermés and Diana Vreeland, forms the perfect three-pronged attack on the question of what to wear, scent-wise, for the crux of spring and summer. Ford’s classic ‘Neroli Portofino’ is his decadent homage to all things neroli, while Hermes, under the watchful nose of Jean-Claude Ellena, offers one of their sweet garden fragrances – ‘Un Jardin Sur le Nil.’
That bright green bottle, which comes with an effervescent perfume to match, is Diana Vreeland’s ‘Vivaciously Bold.’ Her posthumous perfume line takes its various whimsical names from phrases the woman herself was known for, and this one fits the bill with a bright bergamot backbone.
Each of these carries a heart of citrus – not always the most-lasting of fragrance builders, but one that is perfect for the lighter touch required in the warmer months.
With its bright yellow center and pure white petals, this little daisy plant is the sun and the moon all in one. I think it’s actually a variety of chrysanthemum, or maybe feverfew (or possibly they’re one and them same). However they are scientifically known, the blooms are enchanting in their purity and simplicity. While past endeavors saw me seeking out the most rare and exotic plants for the garden, recent years, and a slow maturation, has me realizing that the key to making a pleasant landscape is less in finding the most strange and exotic specimens, and more about finding decent plants and growing them to their utmost health. That brings about a handsome result more than scarcity or cost of a plant itself.
In other words, if you can take proper care of a classic peony – removing last year’s fallen leaves, mulching the area around the perimeter, amending the soil with a healthy dose of manure, taking care not to wet the leaves when watering, and providing circulation in the heat and humidity of a northeast summer – it can look more beautiful than the most expensive and elite orchid that barely manages to survive a few weeks because it wasn’t designed for such a climate.
Apologies for that lengthy example. My sentences run on when I get excited talking about plants and gardening. The point is that even the simple daisy-like flowers seen here have the power to cast a spell, and we’d be fools to overlook the beauty in such austerity.
Though small by some standards, the Boston Public Garden has secrets and scenes that open up anew every season. No matter how many times I have visited the Garden, I always manage to find something I’ve never seen before: a different tree at a different stage of development or bloom, a different set of ducks or geese, or a different group of squirrels. In addition, there are different angles and vistas that change with the seasons and the hour and the weather – and you could be standing in the same exact spot every day for a year and never see the same exact thing twice.
These views of the pond banks are proof of that. While everyone gets the classic footbridge shot, they often miss shifting to the left or the right of the centerpiece. That’s the magical frame that makes the bridge so glorious.
While I don’t believe in looking back very often, sometimes I get lost in looking unflinchingly ahead. It’s good to pause and look from side to side, to take in a larger picture, to broaden one’s perspective. Beauty is all around us.
For Father’s Day, the family gathered in our backyard, where my niece and nephew enjoyed their favorite pool. The day was practically perfect – sunny, warm, but with a nice breeze – necessary for these shade-free times. Andy barbecued some chicken thighs, Elaine brought her delicious potato salad, and Mom had made a couple of strawberry-rhubarb pies. We also had the twins’ birthday gifts from many moons ago for them to open. It was a day of many celebrations.
First and foremost was the arrival of summer, to which the twins splashed in jovial fashion. By the grace of God I managed to not throw my back out when tossing them over my head, but it wasn’t easy. Uncle Al is too old to play these strenuous games.
As my brother is also a father, we celebrated him as well.
In the end, the twins expelled all their energy for the ride home and an early bedtime. Sometimes that’s the best gift you can give any father: tiring their children out. You are very welcome.
Like the hot hues of its flowers or the unsubtle soaring of its temps, July makes no apologies for its brazen attitude. I like that kind of bearing.
For this site, July means a gentler zone, for the most part. There’s enough heat outside to accompany the hunky parade of guy candy we offer here. This is a time to get out of the kitchen and into the yard. A time for grilling and basking in the sun. Swimming and waving a watering wand. Being the kid that summer brings out in everyone.
To that end, let’s fire up this July like the best barbecue you’ve ever tasted.